


Fill Me Up

by S_Oliver



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Camping, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:53:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Oliver/pseuds/S_Oliver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott, Stiles, and Derek go camping and Stiles forgets his sleeping bag. Him and Derek share. This is strictly PWP, seriously, read at your own risk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fill Me Up

"Guys..." Stiles says abruptly as he searches through his bag. Night has fallen and the air has gotten cold.

"What?" Scott asks. 

"I forgot my sleeping bag." Stiles says.

Derek scoffs and throws his own down next to the campfire, not looking at either of them. Scott rolls his eyes.

"Do either of you have a spare?"

Derek scoffs again and Scott shakes his head no apologetically.

Stiles nods and sighs, "Great."

"It's your own fault." Derek says.

"I know its my fault!" Stiles yells back, "It's whatever, I'll deal with it."

"We can hike into town tomorrow and get you another one." Scott says.

Derek slides under his sleeping bag and tucks his hand under his pillow.

"But what about tonight?" Stiles asks.

Derek sighs, "You're screwed."

Stiles frowns and rolls his eyes.

 

\-----

Stiles rolls around on the dirt near the almost-extinguished fire. There is a slight breeze that's just cold enough to pierce his red hoodie. Stiles tries to put his back to the log he was sitting on, but its too short to block all the wind. He takes his cell phone out and checks the time. 1 AM.

He's tired, so tired, it was a six hour drive here plus all day of teaching Scott how to track multiple scents, which meant Stiles ran through the forest carrying various meats and throwing them in random directions to mask his scent, leaving him sweaty and sore.

Stiles shivers against another breeze and curls up tighter before his body finally gives in and he drifts off.

\-----

Stiles wakes up to the feeling of flying. He opens his eyes and he realizes that Derek is carrying him.

"Whadda fuh?" Stiles says, groggy.

"You're shivering and it's loud." Derek replies but Stiles is too tired and doesn't understand anything Derek is saying.

Stiles feels himself descend gently onto something soft, his head resting on a fluffy cotton ball of something he needs to love with his whole face. He feels hands on his pants, unbuttoning, he would normally fight such intrusion but he's too tired and those hands are so nice and soon his hoodie and his pants are off and he feels a large warm mass press against him. Stiles instinctively wraps his arms around it, pulling it in close.

It lets him.

\-----

Stiles wakes up to a large arm around his chest and the gentle whistling of breath against his ear. He shifts his hips and he feels the distinct feeling of a hard penis pressed against his butt.

This is such a nice dream.

Derek grinds his hips forward against Stiles; he whispers Stiles' name into his ear and Stiles' eyes shoot open.

This isn't a dream.

Stiles doesn't move, Derek is pressed firmly against Stiles, holding him tight, any movement would surely wake him which would end up in his death or possible werewolfication which would not be good for anyone.

Stiles makes a bold decision, he closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep and roughly rolls ever. Derek pulls his arm back, just like Stiles thought he would.

Stiles peaks his eyes open and looks at Derek, who is still sleeping. Stiles opens his eyes fully and looks over at Scott who is still sleeping. Stiles reaches for his phone in his pants and checks the time. 7 AM.

Stiles sighs and lays back down. Its weird, but nice, Stiles thinks, laying next to Derek. He props his head up with his arm and looks at Derek. He looks at Derek's eyes, his nose, his stubble, Stiles hadn't ever really noticed just how attractive Derek is. Stiles wonders if Derek has ever had a girlfriend, who Derek lost his virginity to.

Derek moves around in his sleep and pulls some of the unzipped sleeping bag off of him, revealing his boxers.

And his boner.

Which is protruding from the crotch hole in said boxers.

Stiles doesn't know what to do. He looks over at Scott, who is still sleeping, and then back to Derek's dick, which is twitching with Derek's heart beat.

Stiles wants to touch it, God he wants to touch it, but he wonders if Derek would want him to. He did moan Stiles' name in his sleep.

So Stiles goes for it. He reaches his finger tips out and he gently wraps his fingers around Derek. He feels it expand in his hand and Derek's hips move slightly. Stiles watches in awe as he gently starts to slide his hand up and down over Derek's soft skin. He's never touched anyone else's dick but his own.

Stiles scoots closer to get a better look.

It's almost beautiful, the way the veins of Derek's dick travel up his shaft, the way the head expands every now and then against Stiles' strokes, the way it stands almost perfectly straight out of Derek's plaid boxers.

Stiles slides his other hand in his own boxers and he plays with himself. He's almost high off of what he's doing, the rush, the adrenaline, the secrecy, the fact that Scott is sleeping right across the camp fire. It's driving Stiles wild.

He watches a small drop of pre-cum glisten at the tip of Derek's dick and the first thought that comes into his mind is how it tastes. Stiles swallows the excess saliva that's accumulating in his mouth and thinks, what the hell? He's gotten this far.

He lowers his head and gently licks the tip. He hears Derek hiss in his sleep and Stiles can taste him. The subtle salty bitter flavor spreading over his tongue. He needs more, to taste more. He adjusts himself so he's in between Derek's legs and he descends again, taking Derek's head into his mouth.

Derek bucks his hips, shoving a few more inches of his dick into Stiles' mouth. Stiles' breath catches in his throat and he's panting through his nose, he doesn't know what to do, does he bob his head? Does he use his tongue? 

Stiles decides on tongue first, then bob. He places the back of his tongue on his palate and creates a good suction before flicking the top of his tongue against the bottom of Derek's head, the exact same spot where Stiles is the most sensitive.

Derek bucks his hips again and Stiles bobs his head in time with it. He feels hands enter his hair, pulling him down farther. Stiles feels the tip of Derek's dick hit where his tongue and palate are meeting and Derek pulls back, before thrusting up to the same spot. Stiles wraps his hand around his cock and pulls at it eagerly. He can barely believe what is happening.

Derek's dick gets hard, really really hard. The head catches on his lips as Derek thrusts in and out. Stiles looks up and sees Derek looking down at him.

"Stiles," Derek moans as he closes his eyes tight and grips the back of Stiles' head, thrusting his dick as far into Stiles' mouth as he can get it.

The first jet takes him by surprise. It's thick, really thick, and it fills the back of Stiles' mouth. Derek pulls out and thrusts up again, shooting more into Stiles' mouth. Stiles whimpers at how hot it is, having Derek cum in his mouth like this. Stiles swallows and sighs loudly through his nose as he feels his own orgasm pour out of him. He pushes Derek's dick as deep as it'll go as he cums, sucking out the last drops of Derek and he spills out onto the sleeping bag.

Stiles lets Derek's dick slip out of his mouth and he pants against Derek's thigh. He lifts his head and Derek is looking at him through half closed eyes.

Stiles lifts himself up and crawls over beside Derek, too tired to care.

"That was amazing." Derek says, eyes closed.

Stiles nods and throws his arm over Derek's chest.

"It was... holy shit it was." Stiles whispers as Derek pulls him closer.

And together, they fall asleep.


End file.
